Of Broken Spirits

I would say probably 90% of time, things are rolling along smoothly here.  By smoothly, I mostly mean we are making progress, gaining speed, and avoiding head on collisions for the most part.  But eventually – That crash will happen.  I try not to think too hard about when it will happen and just know in the back of my mind, that eventually – it will.  It works.  I don’t work myself up fearing the worst (most times atleast) and Im (somewhat) prepared when that crash occurs.  But still, it sucks.  Because nothing can fully prepare you for what all will be entailed in that crash.

Sometimes, you can see if coming from a distance – you know its coming, you embrace, and you get through it.  Yet other times it comes from left field with no warning and you are left scrambling to reassemble some sense of normalcy.  Because what else can you do?

Throughout this entire trek, one thing has constantly stood out to me.  The phrase from a well known man in town, who, after his daughters boyfriend ended up in jail for abuse to his 3 year old grandson, became his legal guardian.  This man isn’t from town, and like a lot of transplants here, came from farming country.  He was a cattle wrangler.  He know what all was entailed in whatever goes in with that cattle.  Nothing caught him off guard.  Nothing surprised him.  He was always ready.  And yet his words have stuck with me.

“It takes a lot to break the spirit of a 3 year old.”

They are the first words that come to mind when something goes down around here.  And often the last words that leave after a long day.  They race through my mind as I try, desperately, to bring the known to the unknown.  They are the words I wish I could paint, with MY words, to make everyone realize just how true that is.  Because indeed, it does.

I do my best to encourage the boys to seek out their dreams, while trying to guide them into their place in this world – whatever that may be.  I fail, 99% of the time.  I talk myself up everyday, I remind myself of those words – in hopes that I will remember NOT to break the spirit of these kids.  I succeed for about 5 minutes in the heat of the moment, before I too, succumbed to the old tried and true ways of life, say the things I wish I wouldnt.

There have been a few situations here, lately, that have kept me up late at night trying, desperately, to find some sort of answers in the land on the internet.  Situations that have left me scrambling to find answers before its too late.  Yet all that I find are the problems – with seemingly no solutions.  And while it frustrates me, it also encourages me in some weird way.  To know that I am not the only one seeking questions with no answers.  To know that not every question has been answered yet.  To know that I am not alone in this world with roads that seem paved for everyone but myself.

And when I do finally find the answers – they arent as I expected.  Instead of fighting for solutions, and racing to beat the problem to the punch, I read between the lines, and deep beyond the spoken words.  Into the heart and soul of the question is where I find the answer.  The answer, that I don’t necessarily like.  Sometimes, you have to let them fall.  The answer says.  Sometimes – you have to let their spirits become broken – so they can be built up again, correctly.

Sometimes solving all the worlds problems – is not easy.  Infact, sometimes its hard.  And goes against everything I have taught myself.  It screams that it cant be right, there must be another way.  There has to be SOMETHING that argues against this.  Instead, I slowly come to grips, that sometimes – I must be wrong.  Sometimes, pain is needed, and pain is good.  Sometimes.  I must stand back, knowing full well that train wreck is coming and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I must stand by, and watch.  As the spirits of the very ones I have tried so desperately to protect from all pain and sadness – become broken.  Because only then, will they too realize what I have tried to teach all along is true.  Even if not always right.


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